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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29257161">i think he knows</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/mouthymandalorian/pseuds/mouthymandalorian'>mouthymandalorian</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>reputation [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Narcos (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Age Difference, Alcohol, Drunken Confessions, F/M, Flirting, Masturbation, Pining</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:28:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>768</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29257161</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/mouthymandalorian/pseuds/mouthymandalorian</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>you’re on a self-imposed restriction from your boss because he’s fuckin’ trouble.  </p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Javier Peña/Reader, Javier Peña/You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>reputation [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2154576</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>81</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>i think he knows</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Idk guys I felt some things about pining over Javi and him being a big stupid flirt and not leaving you alone but also being a sweet soft gentleman and here we are</p><p>I’m also on tumblr @ mouthymandalorian.tumblr.com</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>What would it be like to hold his hands in your own? To kiss his calloused fingertips? To interlock your fingers with his?</p><p>It’s hard to love Javier Peña from this far away.</p><p>You bring him his coffee in the morning and pick up documents he needs from the records room in the basement.</p><p>“Thank you, sweetheart,” he always says, never looking up from the mess spread around his desk. You’re sure it makes sense to him, somehow.</p><p>What would it be like to go back to his apartment and have his lips on your neck? You hear whispers and giggles from the other interns and assistants.</p><p>“He sleeps with his informants,” one girl, a freckled redhead says, wrinkling her nose.<br/>
“Not anymore!” another argues.<br/>
“Well, he did,” the redhead presses, folding her arms across her chest. “And they never did anything because he brought down Escobar.”</p><p>You would have given anything to be one of those informants.</p><p>He is at least 15 years older than you.</p><p>You made yourself unavailable the first day you saw his face, when you looked into his brown eyes and realized the trouble he would bring into your life. You felt electric heat shoot up your throat when he introduced himself as your new boss.</p><p>He asked you about your personal life, and you made up a boyfriend immediately. You would not go down as the girl who fucked her boss.</p><p>So you settle for quick glances at his lips, sweeping your eyes over his hands when he signs your time card, brushing his knuckles when you gather his empty coffee cup from his desk. Every accidental touch makes you tremble.<br/>
You wonder if you could have him if you let yourself. You think you could. You long for the taste of whiskey and cigarettes on your tongue.</p><p>Three months into it and you’re not sure how long you can go on. He lingers near your desk for just a moment too long. He finds reasons to touch you. Placing both hands on your waist when he needs to get around you. A gentle touch on your shoulder to get your attention. He brushes a lock of hair out of your face that comes out of your usually immaculate bun when you’re working late. He touches the side of your face for an eternity.</p><p>You have to leave the room and bite your own fist to keep yourself from screaming his name while you frantically make yourself come in the empty ladies’ room.</p><p>One night you go out dancing with some girls from the office. You drink too much and dance with every man in the place who looks even remotely like him. By the time you notice your boss staring from across the bar, you’re too drunk to care about any consequences.</p><p>He’s wearing a blue shirt with the top three buttons undone and a leather jacket. He watches you approach him, and you’re irate.</p><p>“You can’t just show up here, Agent Peña. You can’t be at work and the places I go to get away from you.”</p><p>He’s quiet, watching you, a small smile dancing on his pouty lips.</p><p>“To get away from me?” he asks.</p><p>“Yes! From you! You’re always in my fucking head,” you say.</p><p>“You’re drunk,” he says.</p><p>“Very!”</p><p>He leans down and says into your ear, “Let me take you home.”</p><p>You can’t even argue. He walks you to your apartment, which isn’t far from the bar. You’re quiet the whole way, concentrating on keeping yourself upright. His hand is on your hip. He has you.</p><p>Does he ever.</p><p>“Come on,” he says, helping you up the stairs, “Let’s get you back to your boyfriend, sweetheart. Surely he’s worried sick.”</p><p>The next day, you call in. You’ve never had a hangover like this before, and you can’t look at the man after you told him you go dancing and get drunk to forget about him. You spend the day throwing up and curled up on the couch.</p><p>At 5 pm, there’s a knock on your door. You look out of the peephole and see a delivery of flowers. There’s also a bottle of aspirin and a note:</p><p>
  <em>Feel better soon and come back to work.</em><br/>
<em>-J</em>
</p><p>That next morning, you go in and resolve to pretend it didn’t happen. You bring his coffee, like always, and a stack of papers.</p><p>“Thank you, sweetheart,” he says, not looking up.</p><p>You get to the door and turn around.</p><p>“I don’t have a boyfriend,” you say. Javier looks up at you.</p><p>His dark eyes twinkle.</p><p>“Not yet,” he says.</p>
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